


Do It Together

by APgeeksout



Category: NXT
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, M/M, Treat on Fic Mountain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-23 14:18:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14935910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/APgeeksout/pseuds/APgeeksout
Summary: A few bits of fluff and angst, set in a superhero AU where Tommaso and Johnny are non-powered vigilantes.





	Do It Together

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chasesstarlight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chasesstarlight/gifts).



“I know they probably don’t want me to say this,” Johnny said, trying not to breathe too heavily into the microphone, even though he was still a little winded from the fight. Cathy Kelly, the local crime beat reporter, nodded at him encouragingly from just out of the camera's frame. “So, kids, don’t try this at home, but I think it’s important that you hear from somewhere that you don’t need powers to be a hero. Or to be built like a linebacker. Or the support of a multi-million dollar corporation - though that doesn’t hurt; thanks NXT! -” He felt more than heard Tommaso’s huff of laughter at that. “The one thing you have to have to do the right thing is heart.” He turned his face toward Tommaso, standing behind and a little to the side, supporting more of his weight than was probably ideal. “And it helps if you find the right partner.”

Tommaso shook his head and smiled indulgently at that, but if he had anything to say to that, it was lost in Cathy’s polished throw back to the studio for a recap of The Revival’s latest crime spree. Johnny made a mental note to try to get a copy of the broadcast. If he didn’t look too beat-up on camera, he’d send it home for Dad to see.

“Thanks for the soundbyte, guys. Our social media team is going to love this,” Cathy said, her smile looking especially bright in the flashing blue lights of the police cruiser securing the perimeter. “First round’s on me if you want to join us at the pub around the corner.”

“Next time. And we’ll stand you a round then,” Tommaso answered for both of them, draping Johnny’s arm over his shoulder. “Got a hot date with some ice packs tonight.”

 

* * *

 

“The glamorous life of a superhero.” Johnny groaned and sank a little bit further into the cushions of the sectional, squirming a little to reposition the series of ice packs balanced at his knee and hip and shoulder. He stretched to snag the tv remote from where it had been abandoned, along with a half-eaten bowl of now-stale popcorn and glasses of soda gone flat and watery with melted ice, when the alarm went up. “How do you think we get an Alfred or a Jarvis?”

“Be billionaires before we showed up here, I think,” Tommaso offered, and stretched out along the other wing of the sectional, his own collection of ice packs crinkling as he settled.

They were both lying with their heads near the corner where the two sofas met, so it was hard to look him over without making his worry clear - without making Tommaso edgy - so Johnny clicked aimlessly through stations and waited for him to still and tried not to flinch too obviously at the pained noise his partner barely managed to swallow.

“Maybe,” Tommaso said after a while, breaking the quiet with a rough voice that didn’t quite match his light words, “you can do the job without any secret powers or fancy gadgets but you gotta have some to rate a secret lair?”

“Maybe,” he agreed, stopping the tv on a _Boy Meets World_ rerun. “Superman can keep the Fortress of Solitude, though.” He stretched his arm up along the couch until his hand found the top of Tommaso’s head, skin soft and warm and unbearably fragile under his palm. “I like this better.”

He was almost asleep - the long night and Mr. Feeney’s calm, soothing mentor-voice conspiring to pull him under - when Tommaso moved again. One calloused hand came down over his own, thumb riding over the bump of each knuckle in turn before fingers closed around his own and lifted his hand away from Tommaso’s scalp and moved it down. He felt the familiar tickle of Tommaso’s beard, grown out long and a little wild, and the press of dry lips against the center of his palm.

“I like this, too,” Tommaso said into the gray light thrown off by the tv. "More than I've ever liked anything."

 

* * *

 

"I've been replaying it for weeks," he said, and Cathy nodded encouragingly, microphone at the ready. "Just over and over."

It was true: for weeks - in the hospital, at the gym, on the tv in their living room, on the screen of his phone, in his own head - Johnny had done nothing but replay a loop of that last day. Trying to pinpoint when it had happened, how he had failed to notice.

Morning: Tommaso, touchy and tense after the evaluation on his ankle, letting Johnny take the lead in the statement Cathy wanted. No one liked doctors, though, and Johnny had shown him some dumb tweet from Chuck, and they'd been laughing before they headed home.

Later, at home: A slasher flick on the tv, Tommaso tucked warm and solid against his side, pretending to be scared by the movie, letting Johnny pretend to be annoyed.  

Later still: News footage from the scene of the crime showed the two of them in a huddle with Regal, their heads tilted close together over a set of blueprints, Tommaso’s hand against the back of his neck in a warm, steady weight he could almost feel even now.

The very last minute: Paused in a blind corner listening for Ellering and his enormous bodyguards, picking their moment to split up and surround them. Tommaso’s mouth urgent against his own, swallowing his surprised gasp, gloved hands cradling his face, then shoving him away, nudging him left while Tommaso broke right without a word or a backwards glance.

“I don’t know exactly when or how this evil twin took his place,” he said, and Cathy’s professional expression faltered.  He barreled on, blowing right past the mix of disbelief and pity that he’d seen on every single face since he’d woken up in the hospital and refused to believe anyone who said Tommaso was the one who’d put him there. “And I don’t know what this “Blackheart” has done with Tommaso Ciampa, but I know for sure that Johnny Wrestling is going to get his partner back, if it’s the last thing either of us ever does.”


End file.
